Rickey (Johnston) Wallace says Jo Martin left Northern CA for Cocoa Beach, Wednesday, September 1st, bound for the 40th anniversary of the opening of Cocoa Beach High. Just in time for Frances. Jo planned to stay with her sister, Julie, in Cocoa, after the celebration was cancelled.

Rickey recalls that in 1964 the opening of CBHS was delayed due to hurricane Dora. (If memory serves, a bunch of us headed out to the north ramp to watch the monster surf associated with that event.)

Bob Busk says he and Wendy (Wenner) lost power in their Gainesville home for about 30 minutes Sunday, which he finds amazing, “...since the wind is howling and the trees on our property have been swaying back and forth violently,” and he thought they'd be in the dark for the duration. Here's my story.

Saturday, September 4, 2 p.m. The first intermittent winds associated with the outer bands began drifting across Pinellas County, as the storm headed for Melbourne and the signs of the storm arrived from the northeast. A few last minute errands, then back to the Weather Channel to catch every 10-minute updates of a storm that's moving slower than I walk. The storm is over 200 miles away at this point.

It isn't until early Sunday morning, around 2 a.m., that we can tell we're in for a ride. The winds have really picked up, and occasional bursts of rain start coming through. This will go on for the next 36 hours before Frances finally clears out for good on Monday afternoon, leaving frayed nerves and more plant than structural damage. There was flooding, with places like Tampa's Bayshore Blvd. and Davis Island, and St. Pete's Snell Isle getting some pretty nasty treatment. These areas are always prone to flooding, though, so no big surprise.

We lose cable (and broadband) around 4 p.m., then power about 8 that evening. The power had been flickering for maybe an hour before, but I didn't take the outage as seriously as I should have by consolidating frozen foods. This wasn't a problem this time, but could have been if the outage had lasted much longer. I called a friend in Baton Rouge who follows the weather web sites and was able to keep us posted as to the storms position.

I can still get on the internet using the iBook's dial-up modem. Slower, but I can still access some weather info and e-mail. This is only possible because we still have a hard phone line, and the lines never went down that I'm aware of. We didn't lose cell either, but I'd bet on conventional before cellular for consistency, and will have to go a long way before I'm convinced that phone over cable is the way to go in the future. (Charging a cell when the power's out is a simple matter of using the car charger.)

Sunday night is spent listening to the wind moan, listening to the trees creaking, listening to sounds that are normally masked by the background hum of modern, electric-powered life — computer fans, refrigerators, air conditioning, radio.

By first light Monday, we've suffered a couple of fallen branches, not too big, from the sweet gum in front and the red maple in the back. The oaks lose about 50% of their foliage, but other than that nothing else is hurt too much. The roof's intact, the walls are standing, the floor's dry.

A few blocks away a large tree is toppled but doesn't hit anything on the way down. Frances was only a tropical storm by the time it lumbered across the Tampa Bay region. We wonder what shape the east coast is in, and how much the landscape will be altered. Still no power, no info.

A big part of the fatigue factor associated with these storms over the last couple of weeks is a direct result of the endless hours of banal broadcast hype taken up by self-appointed experts on what we must do to “stay safe“ during the crisis. This begins days in advance, and continues days after the event, milking inane “live remotes” for all they're worth. How many floor level shots of empty shelters waiting for refugees does it take to make the point?

Bombarded by fresh-faced newsreaders standing in a parking lot that has an inch or two of water while warning of what happens when flooding occurs is the kind of thing that over the course of time erodes common sense and threatens mental stability. Hours and days devoted to “don't touch” and “sit up straight”, soberly delivered by empty suits in front of designer sets, wears thin.

My favorites in this latest round of Arbitron ratings intiatives includes the “safety tip” to remember to bring garden hose inside, as it could become lethal in a high winds, and the new to me verb, “preploy”, as in, “...relief workers have preployed water and ice to be ready when winds have subsided.” This is frontier gibberish at its finest.

Charley destroyed the gardens at Bok Tower in Lake Wales. We'd visited the newly refurbished McKee Jungle Gardens in Vero just last year and remarked about how pleasant it was, how hard the community had worked to restore the site, and how we looked forward to seeing it grow over the years ahead. We're hoping they fared better in Frances.

Thursday a.m. satellite view shows Frances continuing on a westerly course towards the peninsula. Landfall is expected Friday.

September 2, 2004 As of Thursday morning, a mandatory evacuation has been ordered along Florida's East Coast that includes Brevard and Martin counties. Volusia is expected to follow suit as the path of Hurricane Frances becomes more apparent and the window of opportunity starts to close.

Over A Million Now On Move
Ordered evacuations include areas east of US 1, and mobile homes in the projected path. With much of the state still recovering from the effects of Charley only three weeks ago, hotel and hotel rooms are hard to find, although there's no shortage of shelters and those affected shouldn't hesitate to take advantage of their usually convenient, though less comfortable, locations.

Central Florida (Orlando), particularly hard hit in last month's storm, seems on course to receive another blow as the Category 4 (winds above 130 mph) hurricane bears down on the Sunshine State. We'll post any CHS related news as we receive reports. As of now, expected damage includes effects from wind, rain, and beach erosion, all of which could be significant depending on Frances' landfall.

What CNN Doesn't Tell You
Here's a reminder: your car, truck, or van can in most cases provide a very sturdy shelter that comes complete with a good AM/FM radio and interior lighting, and the glass is tempered, meaning it won't shatter. The radio probably (assuming it's not connected to a 600-watt subwoofer) won't run the battery down, but the lighting could if left on for long periods.

And remember the “Got Milk” ads when you're stocking up on emergency rations, or you'll regret the 15-pound jars of peanut butter later. A little common sense can go a long way; many prepared foods contain a lot of salt, and that's something to be avoided because of dehydration. Read the ingredients first and you'll be more comfortable later.